


Tonight It All has to Begin Again (So Whatever You Do Don't Let Go)

by Bus_Kids_Burgade (Inthemorninglight)



Series: I Won't Let Go [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 4722 Hours AU, Angst with a fluffy ending, Canon Divergent, Cody verse, Gen, Kid Fic, Post Maveth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:30:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inthemorninglight/pseuds/Bus_Kids_Burgade
Summary: With Cody finally safely delivered to his grandparents, Jemma fiinds herself finally free to start picking up the pieces of her own life after Maveth. The problem is that his absence feels more like another wrecking ball than a fresh start....Or Fitz tries taking Jemma out to dinner and it doesn't have the outcome he'd hoped for. The cody-verse version of 3x03.





	Tonight It All has to Begin Again (So Whatever You Do Don't Let Go)

**Author's Note:**

> This work belongs to the Cody-verse serries, in which Jemma finds nine-year-old Cody Daniels on Maveth instead of Will. Thank you to @fitzsimmonsaf for betaing and generally bieng awesome! 
> 
> Also for @florchis who prompted "Things you said while I was crying" for FS in the Cody Verse :D

“It’ll be good for you,” Fitz promises. “Fresh air, change of scene.”

 

A distraction. He doesn’t add that, but it hangs off the end of his sentence. A distraction from the toys and games and dinosaur t-shirts and boys’ size two sneakers still piled in the back of her closet. A reason to get out of bed now that she doesn’t have Cody to cook and clean and entertain for. 

 

“We’ll take it slow,” he promises. 

 

Daisy buys her a new outfit. Bobbi combs, trims, and straightens her hair. They add foundation and blush and concealer to hide the hollows of her cheeks and the bags under her eyes. 

 

“You know you don’t have to make yourself look glamorous for the masses,” Bobbi reminds her before she starts in with the makeup brushes. “Go out in your sweats if you’re comfortable in them.” 

 

But Jemma shakes her head, mortified at the thought. “I just want things to feel like they did before….” 

 

Before what? Before the planet when her best friends were barely speaking to her? Before she left for Hydra and the world was silently falling to pieces? How far back does she have to rewind? Maybe the damage is already too substantial to undo.

 

They paint a new face on her, hide the scars, fill the edges, put her in new black trousers and a white blouse like she’s coming up clean, a fresh start, a different person. 

 

And Fitz’s mouth opens a little when he sees her, and he smiles and offers his elbow and it’s like having a whole new life and she thinks she could be okay with that. Maybe this will be okay. 

 

They’re quiet in the car. She isn’t even sure where they’re going, and past-her would have asked a thousand questions by now, but new-her doesn’t particularly care. As long as she can feel Fitz’s warmth beside her in the dark, it’s okay.

 

Coulson drops them at the curb. Fitz helps her climb over the dirty slush piled up in the gutter. The wide-open black sky above them and the sound of crowds churning around them in the twilight make her muscles clench instinctively. Her head is down and she doesn’t move until Fitz puts his arm through hers and pulls her forward. 

 

But the restaurant is warm and softly lit and… empty. 

 

Her lips part in surprise as the wait staff greets them at the door and every table is vacant. 

 

“Don’t worry, they’re not rubbish or anything,” Fitz murmurs to her as they are led to their seats in the middle of the floor. “I had it reserved. Thought it might be… a lot. With a crowded room and all.”

 

Her eyes fall on him. The gesture is so thoughtful and kind she’s left briefly speechless. 

 

He pulls out her chair for her, helps steady her as she sits. He’s picked up a menu and is rambling about the gluten-free options when she finally musters up the words. They’ve been growing inside her a long long while and it’s time, it’s high time, she put them in the space between them. 

 

“Thank you,” she says. It’s abrupt. Her eyes stay fixed on the empty wine glasses before them. “For this. For… finding me.” 

 

His eyes glow warm in the candlelight. “Of course.” He ducks his head. “You’re my best friend, right? What else was I gonna do?”

 

It seems to be working, Fitz thinks with swelling relief. They talk quietly over dinner and she smiles, even laughs. They have a glass of wine, split a slice of flourless chocolate cake. And afterwards, instead of calling base immediately for a ride, they walk along the sidewalk, arm-in-arm. 

 

Twinkling lights are still strung up on shop fronts from Christmas and old fashioned lamp posts wrapped in garland flood the street with pools of light. They shiver, having not thought to don scarves and hats and Jemma in flats rather than boots, but the crowds have eased to a light trickle of foot traffic by now, so if they avoid the main drags they can enjoy the city in relative privacy. 

 

“We’ll call a ride before we get frostbite,” Fitz says, handing her a huge cup of hot chocolate he’d purchased from a street vendor, topped with a mountain of whipped cream. 

 

Just as her fingers close around the sleeve of the cup, a snowflake lands on the tip of the whipped cream. Fitz looks up into the gray sky, grinning a little in disbelief. Fat, perfect snowflakes drift gently down around them, coloring everything white and clean, so much like a scene from a movie he’s about to laugh until he notices the tears streaming silently down Jemma’s face. 

 

“Hey,” he says, startled by such an abrupt change in demeanor. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

 

He shifts immediately into protective mode, guiding her toward a bench out of the flow of people with an arm around her waist, wracking his brains to think what might be setting her off. 

 

She chokes on a sob and folds over on herself and Fitz sets the hot chocolates aside so he can wrap both arms around her, rocking gently and utterly at a loss for what else to do. 

 

They’ve been this way for a long time when words finally start to come. So long Fitz is trying to get his phone out of his pocket to call Coulson, the only solution he can think of being to get out of this setting and away from whatever it was that triggered this. 

 

“I’ve been trying… r-really hard....” she says into his jacket, between hitching sobs. 

 

“I know, Jem,” Fitz murmurs. “You did really really well tonight, you know?”

 

But she shakes her head and scrubs a hand over her face. 

 

“I mean - I’ve been trying hard - to forget about him.”

 

Oh. Cody. This is about Cody. He probably should have guessed.

 

She sits up a little straighter, takes a few shaky breaths to try to steady herself. 

 

“It’s supposed to be better now that he’s gone.” Her voice is still thick with tears that mingle with snowflakes on her cheeks. “I’m supposed to have my life back. I can do things like… have my hair done and go out for dinner. That’s what I wanted, isn’t it? To have my life back?” 

 

Fitz rubs his hand up and down her arm. He knows even less what to say now than he had a moment before. 

 

“I kept thinking tonight - all I could keep thinking was - if he were here - he would have wanted cake before dinner. He would have thought the wine glasses were funny. He would have wanted to walk between us and hold both our hands, and he’d want me to lift him up so he could see the lights up close and touch them, and he’d have whipped cream all over his face and the snow….” her voice goes out as a fresh wave of tears appear. “I bet he loves the snow. I bet his grandparents get to see him love the snow… and I want to see that  _ so bad _ .” 

 

“It’s okay to miss him,” Fitz tells her gently. “He was….” But he doesn’t truly know what Cody Daniels was to Jemma. Her friend? That seems shallow for the connection he’d seen between them. Like her own kid? Jemma didn’t seem to want to go that far. “He was important,” Fitz settles on. That’s true. “You went through a lot together.” 

 

She mops her face again and leans heavily into Fitz’s side. “It feels like there’s a hole inside me. I don’t know what to do about it. He’s with his grandparents and that’s good, that’s how it should be. They should have him after everything. And I can go back to work. I can do whatever I want. I don’t have to be responsible for anyone but me. That’s good. This is all really good.” 

 

Another sob hitches in her throat. 

 

Fitz squeezes her against his chest, brushes her hair back out of her face and dries some of the tears with his glove. “Maybe once he’s settled in, they’ll send you pictures. Let you visit once in awhile.”

 

It’s a hollow consolation, and he knows it, but he doesn’t know what else to offer. 

 

She turns into him and grips his collar. “I don’t know how to do this without him. I don’t know how to be here anymore.”

 

The whispered words make Fitz shiver.

 

“You’ll figure it out,” he tells her. “You always figure it out. You figured out a way off that bloody planet before even I did. And now we can work together like we used to. So we’ll figure it out together.” 

 

And in the dark and the cold he holds on tight.

 

_ … One Year Later… _

 

“Slow down!” Jemma cries, running to catch up. 

 

Her arms wrap around his shoulders from behind to steady him as they both go skidding on the ice. Cody tips his head back to look at her upside down and his delighted laughter makes her laugh. 

 

“You’re going to slip on the ice doing that, you little monkey,” she chides, but she allows him to skate on the treads of his boots, holding onto her outstretched hand. 

 

“That’s the  _ point _ , Mom. May says she can teach me to ice skate on a real frozen pond, wouldn’t that be cool? Are the fish frozen? Are they okay in the spring?” 

 

A display in a shop window a few feet away catches his eye and he’s off without the answers to his questions, pressing his mittens up against the glass.

 

“Is that a real plane? Does it fly? Can you put mini people in it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Jemma laughs. “I bet Mack and Fitz could make it fly.” 

 

She joins him at the toy store window, eyeing the plane appraisingly. 

 

“Do you want to put it on your holiday list?” 

 

His eyes light up. 

 

“Picking out my Hannukah gifts, are you?” 

 

“Fitz!” Cody all but yells, immediately darting around Jemma to position himself in the middle. “Did you get  _ extra  _ whipped cream?” 

 

“I nearly bought out their supply,” Fitz assures him, handing down a small cup heaped with almost more whipped cream than hot chocolate. 

 

Cody makes a noise of manic glee at the sight, and Jemma rolls her eyes at Fitz over the top of his baubled hat. Fitz gives her a none-too-apologetic grin in return. She shakes her head, accepting her own hot chocolate from him, and their fingers lace together behind Cody’s back. 

 

“Mom, look!” 

 

His head is tipped back again, mouth open wide to catch snowflakes that have just started drifting down on them. 

 

Jemma laughs and tips her head back too. The flakes catch in her lashes and wind tosses them under her scarf and sleeves of her coat too. But she isn’t cold tonight. She squeezes Cody against her side and she’s warmer than she thinks she’s ever been. 


End file.
